


It's A Fight

by Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi



Series: Kylux Positivity Week (the 3rd) [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: BAMF Armitage Hux, BAMF Kylo Ren, I'm Sorry, Kiss With a Fist, Kylux Positivity Week (Star Wars), M/M, Oh No He's Hot, Rated T for Violence, not for porny reasons, though what I consider to be hot is very...specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29990838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi/pseuds/Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi
Summary: "His eyes remained sharp and focused, but his lips curled inward ever so slightly. It was with the slight tension of his jaw that Kylo knew he’d won, and he smirked when the general barked an order towards a lingering grader to referee a knock-out brawl."In which Kylo should probably think twice before challenging a life-long military member (who has been called "a rabid cur" by Supreme Leader Snoke no less) to a CQC fight.(Kylux Positivity Week, the 3rd, Day 4: Oh No, He's Hot)
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: Kylux Positivity Week (the 3rd) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197605
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week the 3rd





	It's A Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Three 6 Mafia song “It’s A Fight”, but I guess the title could also be a play on the phrase “It’s A Date”. So I’ll just go ahead and pretend like I did that on purpose.

* * *

Contrary to what the Resistance propaganda might have you believe, all members of the First Order, even the officers, underwent vigorous training and had to maintain a certain standard throughout their career. Exams to determine a soldier’s standard were typically annual and scattered throughout the year. They included everything from boards that tested military history and regulations, occupational specialty certifications, random health and uniform inspections, physical fitness assessments, marksmanship qualifications, and even combat training.

Not being a military member of the First Order, one of the perks for operating directly under Supreme Leader Snoke, Kylo was exempt from the majority of these tests. With the exception of a yearly medical exam, he owed nothing to the First Order. He didn’t need to know the year of some accordance the First Order signed with some planet or the amount of space between the buttons and medals on a dress uniform. His existence as head of the Knights of Ren made the idea of proving his physical fitness or combat prowess laughable. Which was just as well, since Kylo had never held much interest in hand-to-hand combat. Between the Force and his lightsaber, using his fists just seemed crude and pedestrian.

But that did not quell his interest in watching others attempt to display their combative abilities. Hence his presence against the back wall during the annual officer close-quarters-combat evaluation. His last mission to the Outer Rim had been long and taxing, so he could use a good laugh. Watching officers fumble around with half-hearted punches and unfamiliar grapples seemed like a good way to start.

Kylo suspected that the Stormtroopers were tested more regularly and vigorously in their combat, but the combat qualifications for officers seemed to only require an adequate demonstration of a handful of drills against a human grader and a quick mock combat bout against a training droid.

The drills seemed simple enough. Pre-planned maneuvers for the officers to learn and gain muscle memory of in order to later be applied in a real-life fight down the line. Kylo didn’t know how many maneuvers there were in total, but after watching a dozen or so officers test, he saw about five or so that were commonly repeated when the rest being unique. Perhaps there were some core maneuvers around which more scenario specific techniques could be added?

The drills were go/no go, which was an unnecessarily military specific way of saying pass/fail. Kylo really had no idea why they bothered coming up with new names for things that already had words. Cafeterias were called “the mess”. Toilets became “heads”. Rooms referred to as “decks”. He watched the next officer, some wispy looking lad who struggled with throwing his weight into his punches, and absently imagined some obscure committee dedicated to renaming things just to further divide those in the military and those not. Hux would probably jump at the chance to be in such a pedantic group. Who was he kidding, Hux was probably the head of it.

Speaking of, the general –someone Kylo had been excited to watch— was coming up in line. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining how the general would do. Would his movements be stiff from lack of practice? Or fluid, but slow in its unfamiliarity. Or perhaps he’d glide through it all with the insufferable ease in which he did most things? Oh, or maybe Kylo would be lucky and see the man fail altogether. Wouldn’t that be a treat. His face would pinch in, maybe he’d flush from the embarrassment. Would he stomp to the back of the line for a re-do or try and slip back unobtrusively?

Some idle part of Kylo’s brain noted how strange it was to be seeing the man out of uniform. Either Hux didn’t exercise, or he had a real talent of never being in the gym at the same time as Kylo. As such, this was the first time Kylo was seeing him in the First Order physical training uniform.

Nondescript running shoes and thick black sweatpants with the First Order symbol in red on the left thigh. An equally thick, black long-sleeved sweatshirt with First Order across the chest in red covered his torso and hung below his waistband, which was a bit of a disappointment. Looking around the room, Kylo saw that if you forewent the sweatshirt and instead wore the dark-grey tee shirt or black tank top, it had to be tucked into the pants. Kylo had been hoping to see just how trim he suspected Hux’s waist to be. Maybe tease him about it at a later time. But, seeing as how he was about to watch the general attempt to fight, Kylo would take what he could get.

Kylo stood against the wall and watched as the current officer went to the back of the line, hanging her head as she no go’ed (or would the past tense be no went?) her third drill. Hux stepped up, adjusting his gloves as he went, and kept his head up and levelled.

“Ready position,” one grader called from the sideline. Hux spaced his feet and brought up his arms, staggered to protect the front and sides of his head. The second grader in front of him reached forward to find a gap and discovered none. The grader to the side nodded and annotated on his pad.

“Arm immobilization, 3.” The grader called and Hux, in a startingly fluid motion, grabbed the demonstrator’s wrist and twisted it in. With his outer elbow exposed, Hux perched his hand just above it, ready to slam it down and break the joint.

“Vertical Chokehold, 2.” Hux released his grip on the grader and lurched forward to snake his arm around the other’s neck. The demonstrator was yanked down and Hux grabbed his own wrist, completing the circle he had around the grader’s neck. He tugged up once, sharply, and the guard patted his back in surrender.

Hux released the hold and straightened, his face as blank and impassive as though he were conducting paperwork. Not a hair out of place or a breath of exertion, utterly indifferent to the entire affair. Like it was beneath him.

Kylo wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything different, but that didn’t stop him from being at least a little disappointed.

It was when Hux performed “elbow strike, 5” and stopped just short of the grader’s nose that Kylo checked out altogether. It just figured that Hux would find a way to make combat training boring.

When the grader stepped out of the ring to allow the training droid to take his place, Kylo tried not to get his hopes up, but was still ultimately let down as Hux swiftly knocked the droid off balance with a well-placed knee kick and took advantage in the inertia to sweep it down to the ground. He descended and mounted the supine droid, going for its neck for a chokehold. He placed his hands on the correct spots and applied enough pressure for the droid to activation is oxygen deprivation simulation. The droid kicked and tried to rock Hux off, but Hux leaned into the hold.

Kylo thought he might have caught the vaguest flash of something dark in Hux’s eyes, but more telling was the sudden wave of murderous intent emanating from him. But the droid went limp underneath Hux’s grip and instantly the heavy, cloying feeling was gone. Hux stood up as the grader gave him his score, and the wall of chilling indifference was reapplied.

He watched the general linger, supervising the qualifications until the final tester had either passed or failed three times in total, which would warrant a remedial course in combatives. Kylo was a bit surprised by how many others hung around as well, though based off the shouts of encouragement they gave to their coworkers it was more for comradery than duty, like the ever-silent Hux.

When everything was over, and the graders started to pack away the materials, Kylo stepped up to the center ring to intercept Hux as he finished going over something-or-other with the graders. He had a vague plan in place, but he had to play his cards right to get the desired results.

“Oh, Kylo Ren, you’re here. I thought you were above our _silly military tests_?” Hux said in place of a greeting.

“I am, but I thought I’d come and see what qualifies as combat training among First Order officers.” First, rile him up a bit to get him invested in the conversation. Keep him talking, keep him present.

“Yes, I’m afraid it may lack some of the mysticism you and your Knights love so much, but we do what we can.” Hux scoffed, his feet flat and unmoving as he stood his ground.

“It’s actually better than I expected,” Kylo tried, attempting a bit of flattery to work in his favor. Judging by the curl of Hux’s lip and the furrow between his brows it did not.

“I see. Glad to know you had so much faith in us. Did you wish to patronize something else about me and my unit, or is that all? I have other things to do, you know.”

Kylo thought about arguing against the claim of patronizing, but figured that would ultimately digress them too fair from his original point. He accepted the dig and moved on, hoping directness would succeed where flattery did not.

“I was thinking of having a quick one on one. Between us. To um, show the others an example of combat, maybe.”

"Oh, so you suddenly care about troop morale now?” Hux asked, his right eyebrow archived imperiously.

“Yeah, sure,” Kylo shrugged. _Take the bait, take the bait_ , he willed. He couldn’t risk a direct manipulation using the Force, Hux would instantly sense his presence, but he tried to affect the immediate area with a sense of urgency and tension. To his relief, Hux smiled ever so slightly.

“Very well then, first to three points.” Hux agreed as he adjusted the fit of his gloves.

“No, first knock-out.” Kylo countered as he stripped his gloves. With his fingers free, he began to unhook the clasps of his cloak.

Hux leveled him a flat look, like something he’d give to a private who saluted with the wrong hand. “Kylo, that’s absurd. If we conducted combat drills in that manner no one would have the mental capability to fulfill their tasks. We’re going to fight to the first of three-”

“But this isn’t a drill, Hux. This is a fight. Even if it’s for practice, it’s better to prepare for the real thing as much as you can, right?” He smirked, knowing he had the general caught when he failed to interject. “Unless, of course, you’re just afraid of fighting without the rules to keep you safe. If that’s all it is, I understand.”

His eyes remained sharp and focused, but his lips curled inward ever so slightly. It was with the slight tension of his jaw that Kylo knew he’d won, and he smirked when the general barked an order towards a lingering grader to referee a knock-out brawl.

"First to lose consciousness or to fail the long count.” Hux snapped as he began to walk towards the ring.

“What’s the count?” Kylo asked as he shrugged off his outer tunic, leaving on his tank top.

“Five seconds,” Hux seethed, cutting the standard time in half.

As he approached the ring, Hux slipped his sweatshirt off to reveal a fitted black tank top underneath that was –scandalously against regulations— not tucked in. His shoulders were narrower than Kylo expected, and his arms thinner, but a stretch of his limbs overhead revealed the taunt musculature underneath. He crooked his arms behind his back and continued his stretches as he reached the ring. At the edge, he fiddled with his gloves, humming softly in thought, and those soon joined the sweatshirt on the floor.

Hux rolled his wrists as he stepped into the ring, his pisiform jutting out sharply, almost a weapon in itself. Hux approached the center, but Kylo was momentarily transfixed by the pull of his pale skin across bony knuckles as Hux continued to flex his hand. The long fingers danced across the air under the stretch, sinuous and elegant. Kylo could imagine the general using those steady hands to draw up schematics for his precious Starkiller, or flying across the keypad as he programmed the Silencer class tie-fighter to his exact standards, or even using his adroit fingers to trace warm paths across flushed skin as they headed down, closer and closer to-

Kylo could see why Hux typically hid them, distracting as they were.

The grader turned referee raised his arm and with a go, he sliced the air and stepped back. Hux’s guard immediately went up before Kylo could try and launch a quick punch. He circled to the side, testing his footwork, and Kylo followed, keeping him in view.

Kylo could hear the remaining officers cheer and shout, none of their individual words making it through the overall din they created. Hux, meanwhile, didn’t seem to hear a thing, his gaze level, cold, bored.

He risked a step forward, using his long legs to close the distance and swung from the side. Hux blocked and Kylo snaked in an uppercut. Hux leaned back to dodge the worst of it, but Kylo managed to clip the edge of his jaw. Hux continued his momentum, getting the distance, but Kylo wouldn’t let him. He stepped forward again, throwing another punch to distract while he aimed for a kick to the leg Hux was resting his retreating weight on.

Hux saw through the bait and prioritized avoiding the kick. The punch, being more of a feign, was weak but enough to knock a gasp from the general as it collided with his cheek. Hux’s face turned, and his body along with it. Kylo watched Hux spin, wondering if he misjudged and somehow punched harder than he meant, only to catch the snap of an elbow as Hux completed his rotation.

With the turn of his hips behind the blow, the elbow sunk deep into his chest, just below his solar plexus. Kylo was thankful that, likely due to his height, Hux wasn’t very used to fighting people taller than him. But despite landing directly, the elbow strike hurt all the same. While he gasped in a breath, Kylo grabbed at Hux’s extended arm and pulled him forward, straight into his waiting fist.

Hux’s wide were wide, manic as he ducked beneath Kylo blow and snapped forward, sinking his knuckles into the soft meat just beneath his elbow. His hand spasmed and in that split second of confusion, Hux closed in and planted his other elbow right into Kylo’s solar plexus. His aim was perfect this time.

Kylo stumbled back, hand cramping and breath momentarily gone, but had enough wherewithal to dodge Hux’s next punch and redirect the one after that, leaving Hux’s side open for a kick. To Kylo’s surprise, Hux absorbed the blow. The general winced at the impact, the air hissing from gritted teeth, but brought his arm down to capture Kylo’s leg.

In an instant, he fell to the ground, bringing Kylo with him. Kylo slammed into the hard floor and brought a hand up in time to keep his face from making direct contact. Hux rolled, his wiry body making the rotation quickly and soon Kylo’s leg was trapped beneath his body.

It was only Hux’s broad wind up that Kylo enough time to notice and predict his next move, and he sat up in time to block the clenched fist that nearly slammed into his groin.

Kylo kicked his free leg, popping it straight onto Hux’s nose. His face snapped back, neck craning, but his hold tightened, blunt nails digging into the meat of Kylo’s thigh. He kicked again, harder, but Hux leaned back to avoid the blow. The brief shift in weight was enough though, for Kylo to jerk his body in the opposite direction and yank himself free.

He rolled back onto his feet only to find Hux already upright and following through on a punch aimed strangely low. It wasn’t until bony knuckles rammed into his throat that he realized Hux hadn’t been aiming for the knock-out button that was his chin, but had instead aimed for the far more painful windpipe. Gasping for breath, Kylo struggled to deflect the whiplike jabs Hux threw at him. A thin stream of blood trickled down the general’s nose, and droplets scattered as he twisted his body to provide the maximum momentum for every blow, regardless of whether it landed or not.

Kylo caught onto his timing, however, and ducked between two strikes to land his own punch straight into Hux’s mouth. His hand came back bloody from the nose and, as Hux spat aside with a low growl, his mouth. Hux’s eyes cut like a knife as he stared down Kylo, and that murderous intent from before had returned tenfold. Its dark and heavy pressure shrouded Kylo’s greater senses and shut off everything that wasn’t him and the man who wanted to kill him.

And so Kylo stood there, fist raised, and really saw his opponent. General Hux of the First Order, the picture of logic and regulation and propriety, with his chest heaving for air, his hair shaken loose from pomade, and the blood dripping down his chin, staining his teeth and lips red.

And kriff if that wasn’t a good look on him.

Hux approached with careful steps. His hands gripped Kylo’s shoulder, his long fingers warmer than he’d expected but so strong. He came closer to Kylo, eyes steady and unwavering. Closer still. Kylo couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking down to Hux’s bloody mouth. Was he going to? Here, in front of-

Kylo’s face exploded in pain as the flat of Hux’s forehead slammed into his nose. He heard something crack and the entire bottom half his face was soaked in a warm gush of blood. He stumbled back, his entire face aching and his breathing momentarily gone with his nostrils out of commission. The agony throbbed in the center of his face and began to radiate further out with each pulse; it spread down to his molars and up to his eyes until he could hardly breath or see or think.

So without doing any of that, he caught the wrist by his left shoulder under his right hand and squeezed. He stepped around Hux and twisted, but Hux tried to escape the hold. They ended up on the ground, rolling and grabbing for the upper hand.

Hux surged forward, his wrist snapping under Kylo’s grip, and leaned into the chokehold he’d crafted. Kylo abandoned Hux’s broken wrist and latched his hands onto Hux’s throat, to try and choke him out first, but Hux had the advantage with Kylo’s broken nose already making him oxygen deprived.

As Kylo’s airway started to constrict and his already blurry vision began to recede, he could feel Hux’s teeth, sharp and dangerous, latch onto his ear. His incisors dug in, and sex was the farthest thing from Kylo’s mind as Hux twisted his head to try and tear off his-

“Enough!” A voice cut through the fog.

He still couldn’t see, but a rush of cold air flooded his throat, almost making him gag with the sheer volume of it. He sucked in heaves of oxygen; his chest expanded almost painfully but his body moaned with relief.

The weight around him disappeared and he blinked away enough tears to see Hux getting shakily to his feet. He cradled his broken wrist and keep his gaze down, either refusing or unable to meet Phasma’s stare.

“We’ll call it a draw. Both of you, head to Medical.” Phasma intoned before stalking away, her chrome armor gleaming under the harsh lighting of the training room.

Their audience was quiet now, and they avoid Hux’s gaze as he headed for the exit. Though he doubted Hux cared about that, as focused as he appeared to be in not meeting anyone eyes himself. He was lurched a bit to the right, but his footsteps were steady. Kylo stumbled into step beside him as they walked to the Medical Bay.

The nurse inside led them to the back, giving them each a bed as two droids were ushered in for treatment. Hux hardly winced as they set and wrapped his wrist. Kylo bit down a shout as his nose was set. He sat there, sullenly, as the droid used an alcohol swab to clean away his blood, having refused Kylo’s earlier argument that he could just clean up back in his quarters. A glance to the other bed showed Hux in a similar state. Bit by bit the blood was wiped away and the fire in his eyes dimmed, but his hair was still in complete and utter disarray.

Kylo swallowed down a smile.

They were discharged at near the same time and ended up walking together back to their rooms, under official orders for bedrest until the next cycle. Kylo couldn’t stop glancing over to Hux, amused by the way his hair swayed with each step. Some strands were long enough to fall in front of his eyes. He liked to imagine Hux being irritated by such blatant rebelliousness.

“Where’d you even learn to fight anyway?”

Hux levelled him with a flat look of utter disappointment that blew away anything Kylo’s mother had ever cast toward him. “I’m a kriffing soldier, Ren.”

“Well yeah, but, like, an officer. You do strategy and stuff.”

“Do you honestly think I just started off giving orders to entire fleets?”

Kylo fell silent, suddenly struck by the strange concept of a young Hux. He remembered the animalistic snarl and the fire in his eyes while they fought. Had it been more prominent in his youth? Or was his savagery something that had been cultivated over time?

"You though,” Hux spoke up, startling Ren from his introspection, “I’m surprised you know any CQC.”

Kylo could feel himself puffing up before he could think better about showing his reaction to the glib taunt. Having shown his hand, though, he decided to cast off whatever remaining scraps of pride he had left and went all in.

“And why would you think I couldn’t fight?”

Hux scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t be obtuse. Obviously I wasn’t doubting your general combat prowess. I simply meant that with your lightsaber and the Force, it was unlikely that you’d see the use in hand to hand.”

Kylo decided not to think about how closely their logic had intertwined. “The Knights of Ren focus on all forms of combat.”

“Is that so? So you’re familiar with Ghorioque? What about Ku’lavi? Or perhaps you’re more well versed in Baratimo or Jiu-Jitsu or M’bowik?”

“No. Are you?” Ren shot back, biting.

Hux actually chuckled, though it was a bit too cold and focused to be anything but calculated. Despite knowing that, it worked. Ren hadn’t felt so small in a long time.

“Not really, but I never claimed to be some kind of aficionado in _all forms of combat_ , now did I?”

They were silent for another minute or so, the only sounds in the empty hallways their shuffling footsteps. Kylo was struck by another desire and spoke before he could think of the best way to goad Hux into agreeing.

“But, but I do know a few. We learned a lot of different types back at the, um, from before I followed Master Snoke. And I’ve learned some more from the Knights. I’d think you’d like some of them. Livmera involves a lot of joint attacks, Phexerni is designed for bigger opponents. I could probably teach you some of it, if you want.”

Hux considered at him. They had reached the door to his quarters by now, so Kylo knew it was now or never. He wanted to see that fire again. He needed Hux to be staring at him with that raw savagery, focused on nothing but taking him apart.

The look he gave Kylo now wasn’t quite the same as during their fight, though it wasn’t entirely unlike it was well. He wasn’t staring at Kylo as if Kylo was Hux’s entire world and Hux wanted to burn it to ash, but it wasn’t the detached stare of someone not even registering who was in front of them. Now, he saw Kylo, and the slight cant to his lips made it seem like he even deigned to form an opinion about what he was seeing.

“Tomorrow, after shift. 1530. I won’t wait for you.” And with that, Hux ducked into his quarters.

With a lighter step, Kylo headed down the corridor to his quarters, already thinking about what moves to show Hux. Idly, he wondered whether or not the general would show up without his gloves on, and since Hux had already surprised him by agreeing to the impromptu training invitation, Kylo saw no reason not be optimistic.

Kylo went to bed that night thinking of sensuous hands and steely eyes and murderous intent and blood-stained teeth, and he slept sounder than he had in years.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be concerned if I find it way easier to write fight scenes than sex scenes?
> 
> Also, I headcanon that Hux is vicious in combat but he finds it a bit embarrassing in hindsight how feral he gets and tries to avoid such instances with heavily regulated/rule driven combat practice.
> 
> The “arm immobilization, 3” is an elbow break. The “vertical chokehold, 2” refers specifically to the front naked choke (with the rear naked choke being vertical chokehold, 1). The “elbow strike, 5” is the reverse elbow. Most of the other stuff is whatever I remember from Army CQC or made up.


End file.
